


The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

by JusKIdding



Category: RWBY
Genre: Cross Post with FF.net, Gen, Slight AU (2 years before the series starts), Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7086568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JusKIdding/pseuds/JusKIdding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the World of Remnant, some people think it is a black-and-white world. Especially children, children who have not suffer horrors that lingers in this world - the ones hiding in the shadows. They knew nothing about the truth. The innocence Tara Twilight envies. Most people will kill to get the lost innocence - only to be swallowed up by death as it leers its ugly head at them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 0: Premonition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take this is Chapter 0 instead of 1.

 

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

**Chapter 0: Premonition**

* * *

...

" _Headmaster…what do you know about me?" asked the raven haired girl, her hair and clothes dancing with the wind, especially her lilac scarf. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the person who claimed he has made more mistakes than anyone in this world – both in the living and the dead._

_Was it the truth?_

_Or was it a ruse?_

_The girl couldn't tell anymore. This world is broken beyond repair, there is no hope for goodness. When there's hope, there_ is _despair._

_The peace they had just two years ago seemed like an illusion._

_A fragile illusion of deception._

_And shattered light._

_There was silence, and as time passes, the silence became longer and more strained with tension._

_They stood on a cliff, overlooking the ruins of the world. Smoke, ashes were everywhere, yet the two of them were breathing fine – thanks to the little Aura barrier on their body, to block out impurities – the sky was crimson like the innocents' blood spilled. The sun was setting, casting darkened shadows to anything within its reached._

_Carcases of Grimm, slowly disappearing as the usual black wisp seeped into the air, were everywhere in the razed town. Among them, bodies of fallen Humans and Faunus alike, huntresses, huntsmen and civilians – death is equal to all of them._

_It is just a matter on when and how will they leave._

_The survivors were weary. The healthier ones carried the bodies of the dead to a cart, depositing onto the climbing pile while the wounded did their best to patch themselves up._

_The young huntress knew she should be there, lifting rubbles, searching for more survivors – yet, she is here, with the former Headmaster of Beacon Academy – its current state only a shadow of its former glory._

_But there are more pressing matters to attend to._

_Mainly,_ answers _._

"… _You're a strong Huntress. Curious, intelligent, and wiser than most people of your…peers," The former head stated. His eyes were one filled with sorrow and regrets._

_She clenched her fists. His body language did not give it away, but under her eyes, there is a lie._

_A sudden wavering of Aura coated on his body is the sign._

" _You're still hiding," Accused the teenager with a bitter tone. "It is on purpose…_ isn't it?! _"_

_Her voice rose into a shout at the words._

_The former head gave her a smile – it was mixed with his current conflict. He is happy to see her well, but sad to see that she had eyes to sniff out lies for he wanted her innocence to be intact, even as she grew up._

_But…_

_Both of them knew it was a naïve dream, one could wish for it – and it will never come to reality._

_He closed his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. "You're not wrong about me trying to keep you in the dark." The child bit her lip._

" _When the time comes, I promise to tell you everything I know…"_

_The raven-haired girl blinked, then a smile grace her lips – though forced._

" _I'll be dead by then, Professor Ozpin." Muttered the young girl, twisting a strand of her hair, its edge was partially purple. Under the sunset, it made it more bluish than purple._

_The aforementioned professor gave her a grave look, it was the truth._

_No matter what happens…_

_She must die to end this madness._


	2. Chapter 1: Last Night Together

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

**Chapter 1: Last Night Together**

* * *

 ...

It was a quiet night.

Or it would be – thought the leader of Team TWIL (Twilight) dryly – as her teammates laughed at each other, throwing soft, fluffy pillows to their opponents of the night.

Laughter and shouts and mild cursing were in the dorm room of Team TWIL.

The team leader of Team TWIL was only a nineteen year old teenager, yet if one look at her eyes, they can see wisdom in them. And if they stare at them long enough, they can see flecks of electric blue streaking across her heather eyes. Her raven hair was let down for the night, its edge, violet in color.

It was a cool night, but she refused to take off her lilac scarf lest, exposing the fine scars on her neck.

She pursed her lips, thinking back of her strange dream in one of her daily naps. She blinked as she felt the floor shake, but then nodded in acknowledgement.

"By the gods, how did we survive taking care of our team?" Said a familiar voice. It was a jest.

The team leader of TWIL merely shrugged, her two metal necklaces, moved with the motion underneath her shirt. The two metal tags clinked together, it rang clearly despite the chaos. She tugged her lilac scarf with her fingers.

She sensed the person pouted. "You're no fun," lamented the person.

The team leader did a sidelong glance. The person who was complaining is the team leader of another team.

His name is Owain Dark. Like most of the group here, he wore pajamas which consists of a white singlet and black trackbottom. His eyes were almond-shaped, his coffee brown eyes complementing his beachy brown hair. Despite being age 21, he still looked like a child, thanks to his baby face.

A smile tugged the raven haired leader's lips. "I do, it's just…" She trailed off before helplessly waving at the white projectiles across the room. Unless she was seeing things, even the blankets were thrown into a mushy mess.

He sighed and threw his hands dramatically in the air. "But you're not joining in the fun? C'mon! This will be our last night together in Haven Academy!" half-whined Owain and threw an arm over her neck.

She made a dangerous growl, but Owain conveniently ignored the only warning as his only arm held her tighter.

"Please…"

Somehow, just somehow, her cold heart softened a bit under his quavering voice.

Immediately, the girl shoved him roughly away to the battlefield. With a very, very mischievous smile on her face and a glint in her eyes – which none of the occupants miss.

She made a T-gesture. And the fighting stopped, their attention on her.

She looked at each individual, and paused at the fallen team leader, who was grinning ear to ear, still on the carpeted ground. Around him, were at least 2 good pillows.

"Sooooooo," Owain rolled the word off his tongue. "Tara, shall we?"

Tara, the team leader of Team TWIL smirked before turning to her teammates.

"Team TWIL, PREPARE FOR BATTLE!"

"HELL YEAH!" Roared one of her teammates – a fitting description since his voice was gruff, and also a lion Faunus. His tail was swishing too fast, indicating his excitement. On his right shoulder, a yellow cloth with his symbol on it – a roaring lion.

Tara once argued it was a bandana, but the owner argued otherwise.

The Faunus only removed it during bath time – that much, her team mutually agreed.

"Leon Huang," chastised her other teammate. A female in her flowing orange-white gown had a look between serenity and trouble. "Calm down kitty boy. The game won't start too soon yet," She smirked at the Faunus before winking flirtatiously.

"BLOW A KISS!" Prompted the opposing team.

Leon blushed. His tail's movement was slower now – noted Tara.

"I, Irisviel Zisa, will give her champion his prize." Proclaimed the orange-head girl, her left topaz earring with her symbol, an orange poppy, shone under the soft light. She teasingly leaned forward to the full Faunus, but the latter panicked as he hid behind the white-haired boy. His gripped onto the white-haired boy made the latter smile with strain – it was visible as his grey eyes twitched a little.

"Sorry…Wobi-san."

The aforementioned Huntsman-in-training merely nod before gently pried the hand off. He wore just a plain singlet that showed off his well-toned muscles and shorts, to show off his smooth legs, also almost as toned as his upper body.

Tara cringed at the thought. It sounded so wrong in her head – at least part of it, she conceded.

It was then, he blinked his brilliant stormy eyes at her, his head titled questioningly. Then he signed.

" _Tara-chan. Your orders?"_

Tara blinked and spoke aloud instead, knowing Wobi Garen could read her lips.

"Leon, I know you are a cat,"

"I'm not!" Protested the Faunus.

There was a silence that stretched to minutes before Tara chuckled all in good humor.

"Anyway…" Tara muttered and stopped her tracks before turning to the opposing team. Their expressions were one of anticipation and excitement.

"Let's go!"

…

* * *

…

The dorm room delved into chaos as each individuals scrambled to take their ammos (read: pillows and blankets) scattered around from the earlier battles.

The rules of this impromptu pillow fight?

No. 1 – Do not destroy properties – including ammos.  
No. 2 – Physically assault is forbidden, example fist fights without pillows.

The first rule was a mutual agreement.

The second rule was due to a little incident when their teams went overboard and ended up with two casualties.

Wobi Garen and Leon had flanked one of the opposing members of the team. Pillows were raised.

Eyeing warily on the weapons, Owain threw his ammo and retreated. It bounced off the shields. Hot on his heels were the boys, but he succeeded in finding refuge behind his teammate (a.k.a Garul), and restocked his ammo.

Tara and Irisviel jumped off the beds and charged forward, and their pillows gripped tightly to their shoulders and slammed against the opposing team. The opposing members held their ground, their feet sturdy despite being barefooted.

"Andrea, Maleep," grunted Tara, voice wavering slightly. Andrea, the ginger-head, merely chuckled, but it was strained.

The competition lasted a few minutes.

Irisviel's feet slid backwards as Maleep, the blue-haired girl, won against sheer strength.

Immediately, Tara loosened her hold and slid between Andrea's legs. The latter recovered quickly as she turned around and engaged Tara in sort-of-pillow-combat.

Their dance was mesmerizing to the others – it was as if watching two talented dancers, their quick footwork, their taunts and their sly smile – complimenting each other like the stars and the moon in the night sky.

A fitting description – mused the deaf Huntsman-in-training as he watched them, completely ignoring his task of aiding Leon.

Until Leon smacked him, backhand.

…

* * *

…

Garul Kouche was out of the game.

In just two seconds.

How did that happened?

Friendly fire?

Enemy fire?

Human shield?

The gray-haired man asked himself. He blinked his brilliant emerald-colored eyes as he spectate the chaos in the dorm room of Team TWIL. Unlike the other boys, he opted for shorts.

Finally, he shrugged off the question and sat down like a quiet sheep, smiling at the scene as he integrate it into his mind.

He should draw this memory later…

…

* * *

…

Irisviel, on the other hand, was doing well despite the disadvantage of strength, though her endurance was the weakest among the team due to her small build. Fortunately, the young girl managed to bring Maleep – her opponent for the night – down.

Irisviel gasped dramatically as she pointed something behind the bluenette, and put on a face of horror. "What…is…" She trailed off, taking one step back, her fists knotted around his white pillow as she clutched it until the knuckles were white.

Wondering what was scaring the orange-head, Maleep turned around.

And was smacked down by the pillow once her back was turned.

Maleep scowled and muttered profanations. Her scowl gave way to warm smile when Irisviel escorted her out of the game – and choose to sit out, content with watching their teams play, for once.

"Pity we have no popcorns," Maleep sighed. Irisviel gave her a long-side glance, a smirk on her lips.

There was a crash. The girls used to this sound, only glanced at the boys' direction, their eyes taking in the sight of Irisviel's teammates' shelter.

"But the entertainment here is worth it. Let's enjoy our last night together."

Maleep winked. "Whatever you say, Iris."

Was all she said before they joined Garul, both sides waved 'hi' in greeting before turning their attention back to the game.

…

* * *

…

Meanwhile, Wobi and Leon slid across the red carpeted floor – leaving a trail of dark patches left from their bodies – to evade another round of projectiles. Somehow, just somehow – Owain cheated – mused Leon.

There is no way this room have _that_ much pillows!

It would be stupid to not know that – since each dorm room has its own set of pillows and blankets.

The deaf and the Faunus exchanged a look behind their temporary shelter – an overturned bed, courtesy of Leon. The former with a raised eyebrow while the latter's mouth now in a thin line.

"Any bright ideas?" inquired the sandy blonde Faunus.

The white head teammate pointed at Owain and made a question mark with his free hand.

Leon blinked. It's hard to tell if Wobi is joking or being serious.

As if reading his thoughts, Wobi mimed eating. Then, signed. _"It would be a piece of cake to take him out…"_

Leon widened his eyes.

_Oh._

A sly grin crossed their faces before they peeked above their cover. A pillow flew over their heads with a soft thud.

Wobi to his credit, was unfazed. He picked up the pillow and waved it above their shelter.

"Are you surrendering?" hollered Owain.

Leon rolled his eyes. "Fat chance!"

"MAY THE GODS OF REMNANT BLESS YOUR SOULS!"

Leon facepalmed.

"Make it quick," Leon whispered. Wobi clapped his hands once and gave the faunus a thumbs up before running out of their shelter.

After counting to three, Leon casually walked out of his shelter just in time to see the quick battle. Leon swatted the pillows away with his own, his eyes squinted to properly watch Owain's quick aim and Wobi showcasing his athletic abilities.

Eventually the pillows attack became more focused on Wobi as the white haired Huntsman-in-training closed the distance between them. A lightest shade of green surrounded his body, and hummed with power.

In a blinding flash Wobi was by Owain's side, his pillow thrown to his unguarded back.

Leon whooped – it hit!

"THAT'S CHEATING!"

There was silence and the spectators and most of the players stare at Owain. Then, a voice, one rough from not enough use, spoke from Wobi's lips.

" _Pillows_." Said Wobi with a trace of underlying sarcasm and a tone of finality.

That effectively shut Owain's whining.

…

* * *

…

As the night goes on, gradually, the match between the two teams came to a close.

Tara and Andrea were too exhausted to continue, thus ending the game.

Both girls mutually agree to ceasefire. Though they look unsightly and needed a bath and a good long night rest, they shook hands once – strengthening the bonds of friendship and sense of _camarade_.

The two teams joked and teased each other before cleaning up the room. The lone overturned bed was placed back to its original position.

Laughter and light-hearted chortled and banter filled the room once more.

It would be the last time, the last time the two teams will have a sleepover in this room of memories. The room has been cleared out of any personal belongings, saved for a few pieces of paper on each individual table, and a marker pen, waiting to be uncapped.

The papers were waiting to be written upon – to deliver a message to the upcoming students for the following year.

All of them wished for time to stop, alas, they knew it was impossible. Their age was the proof.

"I can't believe these four years fly past us so fast!" Andrea exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah! It felt like it was only yesterday, we awkward teenagers came here to Haven Academy for training." Irisviel chirped.

Tara gasped. "And remember the awkward me? I was the only one who is one year younger in _that_ batch!"

"Ah, milady, do not concern yourself about your…awkward self?" Owain said sheepishly.

"One year younger does not make any difference." Garul stated bluntly, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"It does to a lady!" huffed Tara as she tucked her arms.

"Girls," Leon muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Boys," replied Tara evenly.

" _...Really?"_ signed Wobi, clearly unamused with this childish banter.

The bluenette laughed, rolling on the floor, clutching her stomach before gasping for air. Her face was red from laughing too hard from all these childish and playful banters from earlier.

In the middle of this, all eight scrolls rang, signalling their bedtime. Reluctantly, team DUSK spread their bedrolls across the floor and settled in. Team TWIL did the same, except with their beds.

Except for Tara – on duty of switching off the lights, stood standby. She noted that some of them has their eyes closed.

The rest of them gaze up the designs on the ceiling.

They are getting more and more sentimental since their final semester of their final year started. Tara gazed at her friends one more time, wishing for the umpteenth time, her eyes are cameras.

"Good night," Tara began, her words marked their nightly ending of sleepover.

"Sleep tight." Muttered the boys before coughing to their fists. Tara raised an eyebrow at Wobi, whose cheeks were flushed.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite." Echoed the girls, a little strain when they said it.

"Nighty, night." Tara finished.

The lights were off with a quick jab of the switches.

And the two teams drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 2: Prelude Part 1

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

**Chapter 2: Prelude Part 1**

* * *

…

It was early morning, but only artificial lights lit their way. It was too early for the sun to rise, thus the need of Dust lights.

A white puff formed when Tara exhaled. The steaming coffee in her hands did little to combat the morning chill. She sat at the edge of the roof of her dorm, kicking her feet in the air as she stared at the courtyard of Haven Academy.

Her eyes darted back and forth, taking in little details – the steps needed to walk to the statue of 'Peacekeepers' to what way was the quickest to reach her destination.

She couldn't sleep. Not with the unavoidable parting in her mind.

She tapped her sheathed weapon on her lap. It helped as her breathing became calmer.

"Nineteen years old…going to be twenty this coming Winter…" mumbled Tara. "Hey uncle Jo, if you are here…what will you tell me?"

A wind's breeze.

His message?

' _Why bother? Miss me?'_

She laughed softly. It was typical of that Huntsman.

"Well, do you want me to sing you a song?"

She closed her eyes. She could easily imagine the deceased Huntsman beside her, making snide remarks about her melodramatic and rudely requesting not to call him Uncle Jo, but his actual real name – Logan Rose.

The air suddenly went still.

' _A lullaby.'_

She hummed. "For you to sleep even beyond _your_ grave?"

There was no response save for a gentle breeze, making her hair and scarf sway.

"Fine," she conceded, placing her half-emptied coffee mug away and her only source of protection away.

" _You are the one with the waves, weaving a dream,  
Like thoughts, become river stream…._ "

Her voice held on to the last verse before her voice faded into silence. It was picked up again with more lyricless tune, her head swaying with it.

…

* * *

…

Wobi Garen was alarmed when his team leader wasn't in her room. If she was in the dorm's toilet, he would know from the slight opening of the bathroom door, since Tara hates to disturb their rest.

The moonlight peeked through the small gaps of their curtain, illuminating the human sardines. Wobi glanced at the empty bed, which was only opposite him – there were signs of wrinkled sheets and folded blanket.

He stared at the neatness – normally Tara Twilight will leave a dummy underneath the covers, to fool all of them.

Sighing once, he kicked off his cover and carefully stepped over Team DUSK's bodies, and winced when he stepped on _something_ wet.

He tried his best to not speculate what the wet thing was.

Tried.

Shutting the door quietly behind him, he graced the hallways of dorm rooms, only small Dust lights guided his path. They glowed softly, its hue green, casting an enchanting look over them. The green made Wobi's complexion sickly.

The deaf Huntsman walked briskly, his breathing steady, and footsteps silent. He wished he had his coat on as it was freezing. Haven Academy's buildings are designed to keep the coolness to the maximum, even on its hottest day. However, whenever it rains or when the night falls – Haven Academy's halls and corridors became an industrial freezer.

What puzzles him is how most of the students here could stand the chill, even if they aren't natives of this land. He scratched the back of his neck – this isn't the time for his musing about their differences.

He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the door to the roof unlocked, behind it, were the same green glow of Dust, illuminating the stairs. He climbed up, as silent as possible with his bare feet, ignoring the cold draft.

Unfortunately, he couldn't stop the goosebumps forming on his exposed skin.

Halfway up, he froze. He was trembling, as if a tuning fork had struck him, leaving him exposed.

Confused, he climbed on. The strange power rocked his very core of his soul – it was just…weird.

XXX

Wobi's eyes were widened with shock at the sight he saw. Purple wisps trailed behind Tara Twilight as she danced around, her footing light as a butterfly. In her hands, her Aura blades, one similar to a katana, flickered and changed form.

Instead of weapons of battle, it became a long cloth and it settled on her exposed arms. She twisted her body before dipping her head once, the raven colour of her hair transformed into the colour silver under the moonlight – Wobi felt he was watching…a flower unfurling its petals, to lay its heart bare to the scrutinizing eyes of the world.

Slowly, she raised her head with a melody only she can hear. The moon of Remnant graced her with its light, giving her an ethereal appearance one akin to one of those fairy tales folks.

After a moment or two, she slowly raised her hand to the sky and took a step backward, her eyes showed hesitance – what is Tara so afraid of?

As if Tara heard his thoughts, the dancer took two steps forward until she was teetering to edge of her death. Though alarmed, Wobi have confidence in her sense of balance.

She went to her knees, her hands outstretched to the moon, as if she was a maiden offering a prayer to the gods.

Or pleading to them to end her suffering.

Wait – Wobi rubbed his eyes furiously and stared at his leader – was, was she singing?

He couldn't tell by the distance between them. He smiled, content with watching her dance. There is a vitality in her dancing, and most of the time, conveyed her unspoken emotions.

For the first time in years, he felt at peace.

Tara then took a step backward, spun once before sliding across the floor, and then, walked towards the other end, her hips sashaying and eyes closed. The two cloths – one around her neck, another wound around her arms – trailed behind her and seemed to float when she moved around.

Twirling around the floor, the two cloths seemed to cocoon her body. Her steps slowed, still twirling, and she finally stopped, one leg forward and bend. The back leg lay on the floor, straight like a stick. Her hands stretched, palm up at first, and then they came together and she pulled them back and placed it on her chest.

It looked as if Tara wanted to protect her precious thing which she once held in her open palms.

She remained in that position for several minutes before she released her Semblance. The Aura long cloth gradually became purple wisps as they dissipated into the cold air around her. It was only then Wobi noted she was huffing white puffs.

She inhaled deep breaths and stood up gracefully as she always did in her dances. Her half-lidded eyes stared at Wobi, and almost immediately, they opened wide in shock along with her slack jaw.

"Wobi-san, I thought you were sleeping!" exclaimed the dancer as she approached him, wiping perspiration from her forehead impatiently. Her cheeks were flushed from both the exerting dancing and embarrassment.

The aforementioned going-to-be-graduated-Huntsman grinned.

" _Nice dancing. I just became a huge fan of yours,"_ signed the deaf young man. She playfully slapped his arm and smiled shyly.

"Most people will say this you know, 'I didn't know you dance!'"

He shrugged. _"Apparently, not me."_ Almost as bashful as Tara, he offered his elbow, with a straight face.

"If you don't mind…" muttered the young woman, glancing around, looking for something. She seemed to perk up once she found her sheathed blade.

" _Allow me?"_

She stared at him before passing him the sheathed weapon. Wobi pulled the black cloth around the sheath and bend down, and tied it around her waist, making sure it fell to her dominant hand. Once done, he offered his elbow again.

She raised her eyebrows. "A gentleman."

Tara wound her arm around his, chuckling as she did so. They exchanged a look before they descend down the stairs, leaving with a smile on their faces.

The only sign the dancer was there was a forgotten coffee mug. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have no idea if I am doing fine or badly. Thank you for reading this far readers! In case anyone is curious about the song, it is inspired by 'Lost In Thoughts All Alone' by Fire Emblem Franchise and youtuber, AmaLee for the cover of the song.


	4. Chapter 3: Phantoms, Prelude Part 2

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

**Chapter 3: Phantoms, Prelude Part 2**

* * *

…

The fourth year students in the canteen were surprisingly energetic despite with the knowledge of unavoidable parting – thought the Headmaster of Haven Academy. He heard them behind the clear windows, along with his employees despite a loud jazz music was played by an old stereo.

The Headmaster of Haven Academy has an appearance of a man in his forties. He chose to forgo his casual attire for the day, and instead, wore a formal suit. His fedora, its strip cobalt blue, was placed on his head smartly.

On the other hand, his polka dot tie was hung loosely around his neck, his jacket, discarded on one of the coat racks in the room. He would have given out an image of a smart, handsome man if it weren't for his unkempt long blue hair, with a hint of gray due to his age, and his wrinkled long-sleeved shirt with a spot of tea stained on his collar.

The wrinkles at the edge of his dull eyes indicated he smiled plenty of times.

However, for now, he wasn't smiling, instead glaring at the papers in front of him with clear disdain, not caring if his secretary is annoyed.

His empty breakfast plate was pushed aside for his graduation certificates of his students.

Not for the first time, he was considering incinerating the goddamn papers. Graduation or not – paperwork is the most time consuming jobs ever created in the World of Remnant.

Only one thing stopped him.

He sipped his coffee, feeling slightly calmer than before. "I hate you for threatening to chase the supplier away."

His secretary, a woman not much younger than him only stared blankly at him, and sipped her cup of coffee casually.

"32 students – a two digit number, and," Two sugar cubes plopped in her coffee mug. "you're procrastinating."

Begrudgingly, the headmaster picked up his pen and signed his name on those goddamn papers.

XXX

At 10 a.m. sharp, the graduation ceremony began. It started off with a speech from the Headmaster of Haven Academy, and later, the rest of the lecturers of the Academy.

Some of the speeches were brief much to the students' relief.

And to _his_ relief.

Only the fourth year students, the going-to-be Huntsmen and Huntresses, for once, were allowed to bring their weapons and wear their combat attire for the special day of their life.

He let out a yawn when his secretary spoke, earning snickers from the students.

Finally, her speech ended. The Headmaster sighed inwardly before approaching the podium a second time.

He stared down at them, waiting with infinite patience for the noise and chatters to die down. Gradually, like a slow tune entering its softer state, it stalled to its end.

Once there was total silence, he rapped his knuckle twice on the podium, the sound echoed throughout the hall, frightening those who were half-awake. He gazed at the teary fourth year students with a small smile.

"To our fourth year students, in my employees' steed, we thank you for being part of our academy."

There were cries and cheers. Once again, the Headmaster waited for the students' excitement to die down. It lasted for a few more minutes, before every student body directed their attention to their Headmaster.

"This is your first step into the real world. This will not be your last time to work as a team, whether in pairs, or quartets," The Headmaster paused, letting the reality sink into the fourth years. They _need_ to know this; that the world is a cruel one – even if it's a Remnant. "The keyword in order to survive is: _adapt_. This is an advice I can give to everyone, and 'tis," He placed a hand over his left breast and closed his eyes.

He felt his involuntary beating of his heart, pulsing with energy under his hand – sending millions of red blood cell throughout his body.

"Is how we, Huntsmen, Huntresses survive and protect."

He didn't elaborate _what_ they should protect – it was an answer that differs from each individual. One might choose to protect the Huntsmen's pride, and another family.

One by one, he announced each fourth year team and its members. When they were called, they climbed onto the stage, with the wooden steps on its right. They held their head high, chest puffed out proudly before stepping beside him. The Headmaster in turn, nodded as he faced them.

They shook hands before the certificate was given and the Headmaster congratulated them under his breath – whether they heard it or not, it wasn't his business. Some took it with a smile, others with teary eyes and quavering lips.

Half of them looked unsure, doubtful of themselves, and even hesitant.

The Headmaster inwardly smiled. It is a normal…occurrence in graduation.

All he had to do was wait, until they come to the terms themselves – only when their mind is prepared, can they only proceed.

And an hour later, the graduation ceremony, came to an end.

"Well done," was all the Headmaster said before the bell rang.

…

* * *

…

The way back to their dorm was silent, only the metal clacks and soft pit-pats of their footsteps accompanied the quartet.

The normal buzzing of students became nothing in her ears, her brain must have tuned them out.

Tara didn't even know she has arrived at the door of their dorm. She stared at the whiteness of it, and felt her back of her hand tingled when Wobi brushed his fingers against it, to reassure her.

She fought tears in her eyes as she smiled at him.

A quick scan of her Scroll and they entered the room, one by one.

They admired the clean room. It was clean as they first entered as a newly formed team in Haven Academy. The only difference is, their packed set of belonging on their respective beds, and the now bared window, its curtains were folded in, and placed inside of one of the two wardrobes.

Tara pouted a bit. The curtains _did_ cost a fortune…even with the _entire_ team pitching in. The Huntresses glanced at the floral patterned walls.

There were telltale signs of yellow rectangular markings on the wall, where the masking tape once held them. The contents were the only normal thing among them – especially when you are multitasking...tasks from Day 1.

"Have you wrote what you need?" asked Tara, turning towards them. They looked at her evenly in the eyes and nodded as one.

"Good," Tara said as she walked to her bed and shouldered her bag. "Let's go."

This time, Tara didn't look back.

Once team TWIL were gone, a gentle breeze aired the room, which, unfortunately, caused the four carefully folded paper to flutter down from its place, its content revealed to the phantoms that once lived in the room.

_._

_Welcome to your new dorm, new team. Let me make this short. Curtains in one of the wardrobes (I don't care what you do with it, you may burn it) and if you do find notes (which_ some _of us may have forgotten), you can burn them or keep them. This is really awkward._

_-From Tara_

_._

_HEY~ Here's my scroll number! Call me if you need help in your studies.  
(100-XXX-XXXX)_

_-XOXO, Irisviel Zisa_

_._

_Don't belittle others, nor yourself. Prove them wrong when they think you have the disadvantage – whether off or on the battlefield._

_-Wobi Garen_

_._

_Have fun! Mess around with the people here, especially your team leader._

_-Leon Huang_

Like memories that will never fade away, the new phantoms laughed as they joined the older ones, and walked to the window as one and vanished into thin air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The next chapter will be the last Prelude. A little warning, I will put short stories between the chapters (separate from the main, there will be .5 behind the number). They are important.
> 
> P.S.
> 
> Updates will vary from weeks to months. Real life takes priority.


	5. Chapter 4: Contract, Prelude Part 3

  **The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

**Chapter 4: Contract, Prelude Part 3**

* * *

…

The skies were red with crimson, ground ruptured and from it, sprouted countless crystals, each of them, its once pristine white, turned black and purple as it absorbed the purity of darkness – almost too pure to the point there were cracks in some of them.

The moon of Remnant hung in the sky, watching the dead land.

Among them, stood a lonely figure – except _she_ wasn't lonely at all.

Every fibre of her being hungered for revenge. Her back was straight, and hands by the side. The long blackened cape, her stigma, a vertical eye, its makeshift light going further down the cape. Her skin, pulsing with deep red and purple, the same shade as her hair, which was tied in a bun, with six additional tails sprouting from it.

Before her, was a specially crafted crystalline mirror, it showed the one she sought for many years, not out of revenge or love.

But out of necessity. A cruel reminder of the events before she became…an _abomination_ of a single curse.

The mirror showed a dancer, her steps fleeting, the two cloths around her body, singing a song to the whole world. The bright showy lights shone on her – and on her only. Her eyes were wide despite the perspiration between them. It was only a visual image, but that young woman looked capable.

However, out of dancing, Salem could see invisible stress on her body. The small slouch on her posture when she was alone. The thumb onto the forefinger – especially on the left hand – cracked when cornered or feeling uncomfortable with a situation.

It was due to her missing memories – Salem envied her and at the same time, pitied the young woman.

" _Soon_ , my descendent, _soon_ …"

…

* * *

…

**One and a half year later…**

_Today is a new moon…_ thought the young Huntress bitterly.

Tara Twilight sat all alone in an empty tavern, her hands curled around the mug which held the much needed caffeine. The barkeeper wiped his own glasses with a clean cloth, glancing in her direction once in a while, concerned if she was all right.

When she noticed, she forced a smile and muttered a thank you before staring down at her coffee mug. Its brown liquid showed her murky, tired face.

Ever since graduation, she has been going solo missions – whether it is to exterminate a pack of Grimms that were terrorizing small towns or to go underground, smoking and stamping out black market…suppliers.

Deep down in her soul, she recognized those… _those_ research labs. They made her sick. Torture devices…medical kits…countless tanks filled up with water, each of them, were filled with a living human, Faunus – and rarely – Grimm.

There were humans and Faunus of all ages – she closed her eyes. In her mind's eye, she could see a young baby, in foetal position, floating inside, possibly dead even with the oxygen support from the mask attached to her face.

The living never made it out alive – even if she tried, they will not wake up. Autopsies report…Tara stopped reading after her first mission. It was too cruel.

The strange machinery which operated them, forced the living people into comatose state inside, while for the Grimm, caused them to cry pitiful howls – sometimes akin to animals – as they were constantly electrocuted struggled.

Her trembling red-stained hands, forcefully shut the system down. In a chain reaction, Grimms broke out of their watery cage and charged at her. Stamping the corpses of researchers until they were just a piece of smashed meat – all kinds of identification gone.

How funny – thought Tara – she no longer hesitates in taking lives regardless of races.

Her grip tightened around her mug.

 _Ra_ slashed the Grimms' exposed flesh easily, and given enough time, its combined form with _Amun_ would pierce their hard armour. Most of them were twice bigger than her size, and almost thrice when they stood on the hind legs.

She thought she had seen all kinds of Grimm.

But those researchers proved her wrong.

There were even small insects, and those were nightmares when they bit her – sucking her Aura reserves like water.

Fortunately for Tara, she learned if she coated a small portion of Aura around her body, she could protect herself from those bites. Unfortunately, it requires almost half of her concentration to maintain the flimsy Aura barrier.

"Miss Tara," A male voice called out.

The aforementioned Huntresses' human ears twitched. The coyote ears on top of her head, one of them with a triangular shaped gap at the side, twisted around to hear better under the hood. Her head kept low, allowing the hood to shadow the upper part of her face.

She gestured at the seat opposite her without bothering to look at the speaker. It is rude – but at that point Tara was tired from the constant bottling of emotions, especially the negative and ugly side.

"Are you my contact?" asked Tara sharply.

A heavy sigh. His breath stank of alcohol. "Kid, you are depressing."

Tara wisely chose to be silent at the casual quip, though her lips were curled with disgust.

How ironic, since she is in a _tavern_.

"You are a quiet one," observed her contact. "And a _dangerous_ Huntress," added the contact with a low voice.

Tara replied evenly. "If you have no business with me, I will have to leave, there are other jobs cal-"

A hand slam interrupted her. "My apologies, milady. For testing your patience. And for the slam." Added the contact, sounding remorse – much to Tara's ire.

Tara forced a smile to spite him. "At least you have manners…for a drunk person," snarked the Huntress. That was all she said before a file was passed to her across the table. Tara touched its surface – it was rough under her fingertips.

She sent a little of her Aura into it – nothing odd.

"Done with your inspection?" There was amusement in his voice. Tara finally looked up, and saw him flinch. It was only a second, and he recovered fast enough. But the damage was done.

Her heart, though stone cold from all the years of solitude, still hurt from people's reaction to her current state. Like most Faunus, their eyes glowed in the dark when willed, for night vision – but hers was different. It glowed in a monstrous way, and more ominous when hidden in the dark.

Red, purple and green, flecked across her eye. The heather was always dominant. The green was scattered around the pupil and the red streaked across the eyes, mingling together with the purple in perfect harmony.

For a vague reason, the man reminded him of her old tutor. It was almost the same, except for the short red cape on his shoulder and lack of hood, and the streaks of grey on the side of raven-coloured hair, along with the subtle beard on his chin. He has a playful expression, and his rusted red eyes glinted with amusement.

"It's not good to stare ya'know,"

_He is not Logan – he's thirty feet underneath. Plus his eyes were not one full of pain._

Tara looked down again, her lips now in a thin line, and pulled out the request from the plain-looking file and skimmed through the contents.

" _Patch?_ I thought it was a small, safe town," Tara didn't bother hiding her confusion. "Grimm may be still around, and last I heard, it has little population there."

A thunk on the table. Glasses?

"Are you _drinking_ this early in the day?" Disgust coloured her otherwise monotone voice. The not-lookalike-Logan merely hummed as he popped the cork open with the wine opener.

"Kid, I'm an adult, plus, I don't drink in front of underage kids," he defended before pouring one for himself. The Huntress let it slide as she reread a particular sentence silently.

_As long as you are bound to this agreement, you will not accept other contracts of any kind. The contract can only be broken if both sides accept the parting – and two conditions must be met before it._

\- The Huntsman/Huntress must be a teacher in Signal Academy for 6 months.

\- The Huntsman/Huntress must complete the training regimen provided by the contact, and acknowledged he/she has fully completed it.

"You…will teach me?" she sounded incredulous – even to her own ears. How did he know she _is_ searching for one?

Thunk. Another slosh of liquid as it met the solid glass, gradually filling up to its brim. "As for our witness…"

Tara glanced around the bar. No one except for the barkeeper. She looked up from the contract papers and stared at her contact as he dug in his pockets, mumbling under his breath.

She let her gaze fall onto the wine bottle, and much to her surprise – a filled red liquid, left untouched. One more wineglass, half-emptied, at the contact's side.

She did not realize her contact had pulled out his Scroll and was dialling someone on the other end. It was only when the speaker was on and a grumpy "What?" that her attention was turned to the Scroll. The screen was placed face up, showing her another uncle of her contact's age, with tired eyes and neatly trim hair.

Blonde hair, blue eyes – a friend?

"Hey Tai, I know it is too early-"

"Late," interjected the person now identified as Tai. " _Very late._ Ruby and Yang are now asleep. You better have a good reason calling me this late in the night."

"It's actually early in the morning, _very_ early." Her contact replied evenly. "You are the witness for our deal."

The person called Tai, raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Her contact placed his Scroll until it showed them both. Tai's mouth went a perfect 'O' before he nod in greeting to Tara, and eyes regarding the Huntress curiously.

"Qrow wants to make a deal? Is Qrow drunk right now?" The blonde person sounded incredulous. But one thing that registered in Tara's mind was her contact's name.

_Qrow?_

"I'm very much sober," Said the contact, now identified as Qrow. He clapped his hands for attention, and directed their gaze to the contract paper, which was still in her hands. "I believe it is rude to not ask her lady for her name in our very first meeting," continued Qrow smoothly, his expression blank as he offered his hand to her.

"Qrow Branwen."

Tara stared at the offered hand and blinked. "Tara, Tara Twilight." Instead of shaking his hand, she passed the contract papers to him. Qrow gave her a look of amusement.

"As for that idiot-"

"HEY!" Protested Tai.

Conveniently ignoring his witness, Qrow continued, "is Taiyang Xiao Long."

The two men looked at her. Being used to crowds, Tara was unfazed, instead looked back at Qrow, resting her gaze on his rusted coloured eyes.

She saw nothing but hope and excitement.

 _Such honest and positive eyes._ Noted the Huntress.

"Do you accept?"

She smiled, a real one for the first time since her first day of becoming a full-fledge Huntress.

The answer is clear to the men as they grinned.

"Welcome to Signal Academy, Professor Tara Twilight."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Tara is a Faunus during a new moon of the lunar cycle. It is known to most of her schoolmates that she is a Faunus at a certain point of time, and was criticized for being a wannabe Faunus in her first month of first year – Leon Huang included until he read her journal she wrote since 12 years old. How this transformation happened is linked to her missing memories.
> 
> Aura Barrier – Most Huntsmen and Huntresses can use this ability, provided their control over their Aura is great since it's a high level technique. Aura Barrier cannot reflect attacks unless pumped an extra boost with the right timing.
> 
> Timeline:  
> \- Ruby and Yang will be 13 and 15 in age.  
> \- Tara is now 20 years 6 months old from this chapter onwards.


	6. Chapter 5: Beautiful Lies

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

**Chapter 5: Beautiful Lies**

* * *

…

It was close to noon when Tara climbed down, with her only bag of belongings carried on her back. Around her waist, hung loosely, were her weapons.

 _Amun_ and _Ra_.

 _Ra_ is a katana, its blade, meteoric iron. Its sheath, midnight black, only held by a single golden yellow cloth which intertwined with its twin. _Ra_ is one of the rare traditional weapons as most Huntsmen and Huntresses opt for transforming weapons, dubbed as multi-type weapons.

Or it would be if Tara Twilight had not kept the fusion of weapons in her mind when she first designed them.

 _Amun_ is the main frame between the two – the one that keeps them together – and her Aura blade she normally crafted. Unlike _Ra_ , _Amun_ 's blade was spear-point, with an intent to pierce through the thicker armour of Grimm given the right timing.

If one looked carefully at the purple-black sheath which held _Amun_ , they would not have realized it has a single, thin blade instead of the broadsword they concluded. It has no cross guard to prevent Tara's hand from slipping to its blade by mistake. The gears in its frame were in stasis, but ready to gear when its owner chose to.

For now, there is an empty, extra sized, metal collar for _Amun_. The lone blade permanently fixed in the middle, while the extra space was made for an Aura blade.

Back in the present, Tara's coyote ears rang with the chattering of people and the clinking of silverware. It twisted and turned in their places, hidden under the hood. Her Faunus ears showed more emotion, and _real_ emotions than the stoic face she wore since young.

She discreetly sent a glare to the customers and a nod to the barkeeper as she slid the room key across the table. The older man did not notice her presence as he attended to other customers that demand his attention.

XXX

"For now, I would recommend staying with Tai,"

Tara nearly spit her drink at Qrow's face with his casual starter conversation.

They were in a Bullhead heading to Patch's small airport. The estimated time of arrival is 3:03 p.m. Silence is one thing Tara took solace, except for the frustrating fact, the silence made doubt grew and festered.

"That is – if you don't mind kids," Qrow added as an afterthought, tapping his chin as leaned forward towards the Huntress opposite him. The Huntress stared back and crossed her arms.

Silence reigned once again. Qrow with his patience, only waited for her response.

Tara chuckled softly to herself. Qrow is sure an interesting uncle.

The Huntsman smirked knowingly at her.

Tara inwardly sighed before gazing anywhere but his eyes. He was too sharp. It was unnerving in a way, as if she was dancing on his palm, like a puppet.

Everything was a blur once the Bullhead touch-down their destination. The hatch opened slowly, not a single squeak reached her sharp ears. And near the gates, was a small group waiting.

As per usual, security checks – not that Tara cared – they passed the checks easily. Her attention was on the designs of the building. It was in modern style, but the difference was the intrinsic patterns on them – which puzzled the artistic side of Tara. How many years did it take? What organisms that lived in its foundation?

Qrow gently nudged her with a tug of her sleeve, bringing Tara out of her musing, before walking out and waved at the small group with a bright grin.

The damn Huntsman promptly left his luggage with her. Tara glared at the offending bag, but sucked her annoyance up. She had survived worse than this.

She thought back to her old team and smiled sadly before shaking her head and picked up the two luggages – one for herself, another for Qrow. Once she finished strapping the two weapons around her waist, she walked down, careful to keep the upper half of her face covered.

She stood back, leaving the little reunion in peace – partly out of not scaring the two children she has seen since the opening of the Bullhead hatch. It was obvious the blonde is related to the older blonde, but what about the strange girl with red highlights?

Tara's eyes were narrowed as she darted between Qrow and the strange girl, who was now swinging from his arm energetically while the Huntsman laughed. The group practically radiated happiness.

The raven-haired woman sighed. She had long tuned out their conversations for the sake of privacy. That was until someone mentioned her in a conversation.

"Who's that? Uncle Qrow, she has your bag!" yelped the girl with red cape, only for her hair to be ruffled once more.

"Your new partner," Replied Qrow seriously and it caused his niece to be horrified at the prospect. Tara raised a brow.

_That isn't in the contract…_

She glanced at the redhead and nodded to her.

"Ruby Rose, Tara Twilight," Qrow introduced them, despite the fact the two females were far from a hug – much less, a handshake. Ruby timidly waved 'hi' and ducked behind her uncle, mumbling something lost to the wind.

_Rose?_

But Tara dismissed it as a coincidence though her heart betrayed her dismissal.

Tara chose _that_ moment to walk towards the small group, now having their attention as she approached them. The two blondes, the older with a smile, the younger with a frightened look when she saw the strange eyes of Tara.

For a brief moment, Qrow swore a flash of pain – one similar to their first meeting in the tavern – crossed her eyes, before they became cold, void of emotions.

"Yang, be polite," said Taiyang who too, noticed both the brief pain in Tara's eyes and his daughter's hesitance to greet. The blonde girl, now identified Yang, blinked her lilac eyes before forcing a smile.

"…hello," muttered Yang. "Um…" She walked up to Tara and offered her hand. Tara immediately shook it, squeezing a little before releasing the offered hand with a relieve sigh. Upon closer look, Tara noticed both girls were wearing their casual clothes – for Yang, it was yellow blouse and brown shorts-slash-skirt – and for Ruby, black blouse and pleated skirt, some strange reason wore a caped hood on her form.

"Oh, before I forget Tai. I need to discuss Tara's housing for a moment, _in_ _private_ ," added Qrow when Ruby and Yang looked eager to follow them. Taiyang shrugged and gave the two girls a 'behave' look and followed Qrow to a distance, at least until Qrow was sure only Tara could eavesdrop.

The trio were silent, and it was awkward. Yang and Ruby stood together, holding hands – for obvious reason – and observed Tara, an enigma to them, with curiosity burning.

"Are you a Huntress?" blurted out Ruby excitedly, now positively bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her excitement is contagious as the blonde girl, grinned at Tara – and it unnerved the Huntress.

A nod.

"COOL! DO YOU GET TO SAVE PEOPLE?" Ruby now shouted the question, and half-squealing when Yang glomped the redhead.

_Not really._

"Yes," Tara suddenly found her black boots interesting all of the sudden. They don't _need_ to know the harder parts of being a Huntress.

 _And being a Faunus._ Added the voice in her head.

"I wish my mom can meet you…" Ruby's tone was melancholic, all her excited demeanour she had moments prior, gone. It was a swift change, from one current to another.

Tara's hand hovered above Ruby's head hesitantly, a quick nod from Yang was a sign she needs.

Tara patted Ruby, trying to comfort the redhead's sorrow as best as she could. The Huntress wanted to sooth Ruby with words, but knew it was better to be silent.

If she did say anything, it would be a beautiful lie to both the girls.

Maybe just this once, a beautiful lie will help them.

Tara went on one knee and looked at Ruby, still patting the latter's head. "I will be honest. She sounds like a wonderful woman. And even if she isn't here with us physically," Tara pointed at Ruby's chest as she retracted her patting hand. "She's still in you, in your heart – watching over…your family from the sky. She will be very happy to know you girls have done well…and watch your growth from above."

The girls glanced at each other and shared a small smile. Nonetheless, it was a smile.

…

* * *

…

"Qrow," A snap of Taiyang's fingers brought Qrow back to their discussion.

Qrow scratched the back of his neck before he glanced at his two nieces.

And a potential long-lost family member.

He can't be sure yet, but the way Tara Twilight carried herself was almost as similar with his runaway-cousin in a distant past.

Slightly slouched shoulders, straight back, and the tendency to wear hoods to hide the upper half of the face. Smells like it – thought Qrow.

And if she does smirk, Qrow _is_ confident it will look exactly like _his_.

A sigh escaped from Taiyang's lips as he placed a hand to his forehead. "Qrow, are you sure you want Tara with the kids? With the kids? My kids, the students." Clarified Taiyang though he had a hunch it was a baseless fear.

Well, Tara came off quite intimidating and mysterious with that strange…mood around her, it was partially saddening, and something in her posture – was uncanny to one burden with duties – or mourning.

Qrow sympathised with the father of two daughters. Taiyang must have saw himself in her.

So does Qrow.

"It will be for a few months, Tai. Besides, the girls hit up a good start," Taiyang's head snapped towards the trio of girls, following Qrow's index finger until their eyes settled at the girls who were playing a game.

"Toothpick! Your turn Rubes." Called out Yang, half-giggling.

Ruby glared at her half-sister. "King!"

"Great!" Tara quoted it in the air with her finger. It was rather impressive she manage to sound neutral.

The two men exchanged a look.

"As long as you're dealing with Tara's training, I will allow her to stay." Taiyang said with a tone of finality, arms crossed.

"We will remedy some of the conditions in later date," Qrow let out a yawn. "Is that all right, Tai?"

The reply Taiyang made was all lost to Qrow's thoughts.

Qrow Branwen has all the time in the world to peel the layers of mask Tara Twilight wore, and to find the truth of her bloodline.

And the story of her life before their meeting.


	7. Chapter 6: A Simple Race

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

**Chapter 6: A Simple Race**

* * *

…

"Are you sure you are fine sitting on top?" Taiyang asked for the fifth time at Tara, eyebrows raised until they disappeared behind his bangs. His hand was on the door to the driver's seat, while the rest squeezed at the back passenger seat, all of them staring at the ceiling as though they could see her through solid metal.

"We do have an empty seat," Taiyang stated to the quiet Huntress, who was currently sitting in lotus position on top of their small rented car, her weapons connected to her waist with a double strip of cloths, were lay bare on the surface. "And it's called a _shotgun_."

Tara merely blinked her tri-colored eyes and nodded.

"Is there anything I could do to change your mind?"

The Huntress smiled. "No."

Her tone made it clear the discussion was over.

The Hunter sighed before shaking his head. He is worried for her health, and more importantly her psyche. She has exhibited extreme distrust of people, and not just humans, also Faunus – as if the term discriminate is out of her dictionary.

The contradiction is the scene he saw just minutes before they left the building.

She entertained his hyperactive daughters – which puzzled the Huntsman named Taiyang Xiao Long.

Maybe she just trusts kids more…

Taiyang glanced at the supposedly drunk man. "Qrow, a little help?"

Qrow snickered. "Leave the woman to her own devices. Besides," Qrow tapped the side of his head. "Tara just needs time to sort out. It must be a drastic change in environment."

Tara visibly flinched and frowned – which caused Taiyang to give her a curious look before opening the door and start the car engine. His daughters were still staring at the ceiling as if it would grant them answers.

"But it's not _safe_ ," emphasized Taiyang with a wave of his hand. Qrow scratched the back of his neck and yawned.

"Taiyang, how 'bout this…" And with a nod from the older Xiao Long, Qrow explained his proposal.

…

* * *

…

Fifteen minutes after the driver alone left the airport, Qrow and Tara began their walk and hunt for stable horses for renting. Ruby and Yang looked excited with their body language as they had a little skip in their every step.

Tara _is_ grateful for Qrow's proposal. She normally adapts fast, but this time around, it is hard.

Her current environment is a loving and caring one. A 180 degree change from her life of mercenary and making hard choices.

"I have never ride a horse before!" Ruby said with infectious enthusiasm. Qrow smiled at the girls before glancing at the hooded Huntress. She snapped her fingers at the old man as she pointed at the sign indicating the price of renting.

" **2000 Lien for one horsey ride!"**

"That is the lamest sign I have ever read," Yang remarked. Tara tapped her sheathed katana, the pungent smell of horse assaulted her nose.

She quickly pinched her nose and approached the bored-looking renter who was staring at the modernized road – black road instead of worn down cobblestones. Thankfully, the wind shifted downwind, allowing Tara's sensitive nose to breathe more easily.

"Here for directions?" The rancher asked. Tara stared at him and immediately, the poor rancher felt uncomfortable. He looked at the group behind her, and his jaws dropped, but quickly nod in understanding as he walked to the stables, where a white horse and a black horse were resting.

While waiting, Tara glanced at the hopeful Ruby and the crossed-arms Yang. Qrow mouthed without their notice: _Ruby._

Leading them by the reins, the horses snorted at the rancher, and his straw hat flew away, revealing his bald spot much to the group's amusement. For a moment, Tara found herself in another place, a wheat field as the moon shone above _them_.

In the rancher's place, was a younger looking man, clearly dressed in another era. He tipped his hat to her, laughing when the horses nuzzled him affectionately.

The wheat swayed along with the breeze, some of them, unnatural as if a beast prowled between them.

" _Tara!_ " cried someone.

She blinked. All of the sudden, reality crashed down to her.

Shaken, she glanced around her surroundings, a hand on the hilt of _Amun_.

No wheat fields.

No young man.

"Can you help me up?" Ruby asked childishly, tugging the sleeve of her cloak. Apparently, Qrow and Yang were on the white horse, and ready to hit the road. Did she daze off?

With a shuddered breath, Tara nodded and approached the black horse. It blinked its beady eyes at her, and stomp the cobblestone road with its hoof. Ruby yelped and hid behind Tara's back.

In the back of Tara's mind, she noted Qrow, that old drunk, must've paid the rental fees.

"Relax…little red-riding hood, relax," Tara muttered in a low voice. She held out a free hand to the horse, palm up. Her hand was only a few inches apart from the horse's shiny coat, but she stopped, waiting for its acceptance with baited breath.

At the corner of her eye, she could tell the old rancher was about to intervene. The horse neighed once before settling its long head onto her palm, and Tara caressed it.

The rancher's jaw dropped comically. "Mr, you have a way with animals! This stallion can be very temperamental, despite being broken in, it gave some of me customers some trouble…" added the rancher somberly, his eyes went dull. Tara nodded in understanding.

"How long has this…stallion been in the service?" Tara asked slowly, impersonating her voice like a grown man's voice. It was very convincing as Ruby whispered, "Aren't you a lady?"

Needless to say, Tara ignored the question.

"Twelve, sir. He is one of the younger horses me have."

"Good horse," Tara muttered, before nodding to the rancher's direction. She waited until he was out eavesdropping, and spoke kindly, "Ruby, relax. I will help you up."

She waited for Ruby to move in front of her, next to the saddle. The young red-riding hood gulped and cautiously approach the horse.

The horse merely flicked its ear to Ruby's direction – managed to look uninterested – much to Tara's mirth.

The Huntress held Ruby around the waist and hoisted the latter up. The Huntress gently settled Ruby on the leather saddle and advised, "Hold the pointy thing in front of you. It will help to keep you balance. Or if needed, hold the horse's mane."

Ruby nodded, inhaling and exhaling deeply in order to keep herself calm. Tara then placed Ruby's feet into the stirrups. "Extra precaution," informed Tara. "Remember, hold the pommel."

Ruby tilted her head cutely. The Huntress jabbed at the front of the saddle.

"It's the pointy thingy."

Almost immediately, Tara swung herself up, and straighten her back. "Ruby, if you need, lean back to me, it will help all three of us."

"Three?"

Tara patted the horse. "Yeap, three. Ready?"

The horse neighed and followed the light tug of the reins. It halted its movements beside its counterpart and huffed.

"Walk?" Qrow inquired before tapping Yang's leg behind him. She understood the unspoken message as she wrapped her arms around his waist for safety and grinned sheepishly at Ruby.

"Trot, then canter. I bet the girls are not used to riding horses," Tara reasoned. Qrow tilted his head to Tara and urged his steed to move forward at a trot.

"Ruby, lean back," Tara said in a hushed tone, a silver of mischief coloring it.

It was Ruby's only warning for what's next.

All at once, Tara slapped the stallion's sensitive spot and the horse rushed forward, galloping. Ruby yelped in surprise as she barely had the time to adjust and calm her pounding heart.

"Ruby, show me the way!" shouted Tara over the wind and the sound of the hooves hitting the cobblestones.

The poor startled girl nod, and soon cheered. "SO COOL!"

Tara laughed.

She understood the redhead's exhilaration before leaning slightly forward, at the same time craned her neck back and snickered.

Will Qrow accept her challenge?

…

* * *

…

"What the-" Qrow said as the other duo left them to dust. A smirk graced his lips.

She can be really rash if she wants to – the Huntsman filed the information away in his 'to-be-determined' brain.

"I see, so that's how we're going to _play_ ," He craned his neck to his beloved niece. "Firecracker, hold on as tight as you could. Sorry."

Qrow ankled the horse's sensitive spot and they went into full gallop. Despite the overwhelming distance, the white horse and its riders caught up, with a cost.

A large portion of its stamina was used up in that burst.

By then, Qrow noticed Tara had slowed her pace down, into a canter – the plan was easily read.

She intends to reserve her steed's stamina.

Qrow forced his horse into a trot, allowing the leading riders to be a little ahead of him. He patted the horse's neck encouragingly, and a moment of realization dawned on him.

Tara's hood was down, from the sudden speed from the beginning, and her hair flowed freely from the wind, its edge purplish. An extra pair of animal ears – that Qrow couldn't identify, were twitching.

"Wow," Yang gasped behind him. "A Faunus!"

The animal ears twisted in its axis before going slightly backwards as Tara's posture went rigid. From the back, they could easily observe her as she raised a hand to her head, patting it.

She craned her neck, her multicolored eyes narrowed in suspicion, almost similar to a cornered prey, while one hand reached for her weapon on her side.

Qrow forced himself to relax though his hands were itching for his compact weapon – which the old Huntsman remembered he placed _it_ together with their luggage(s) and is currently being transported to the Rose-Xiao Long-Branwen house. The amount of danger felt surreal and yet, _very_ real in front of his eyes.

"We're not your enemy," Qrow modulated his tone, hoping to ease the Faunus's fears. He saw it first-hand on how the Faunus were discriminated during his missions, especially on his almost lookalike cousin in his younger days. Tara didn't look convinced, and growled, sending cold shivers down the family's spines.

"Tara! What's wrong?!" Ruby asked, fear laced her voice like poison.

The Huntress became very still and silent, her eyes glazed over, as if she was somewhere else, anywhere but here. Eventually, she raised her hood above her head, and forced the steed to go slower, and the hand that settled on the weapon's hilt, reached for the loose rein.

"It's nothing. And relax, the horses can sense your negativity much better than you think," Tara said not all too kindly. There was a sharp edge to her voice now, like a sharpened blade ready to tear through flesh and bone.

Qrow curled his lips. If she ever hurts any of his nieces…

He will be damned.

"Let's settle this with _this_ race, if I win, you tell us the truth. We can ask you three questions at least," Qrow wagered. There was a hint of a smile from Tara, and it was gone when he added the last part.

"One question each. No more, no _less._ "

"Deal."

"Bye-bye old man," mocked Tara as she whipped the horse with its reins. It went to full gallop, and Qrow urged his horse to do the same by ankling it.

In unison, Tara and Qrow muttered, "Relax/Hold tight!"

They weaved from one cobblestone road to another – especially Qrow when he tried to overtake Tara. And once, the second rider suddenly spun around in a circle, forcing the grey-haired rider to slow down – and the horse recovered quickly, not even losing speed when it faced forward again. For some reason, Tara's steed obey her orders as if they had known each other for their entire life.

"I'm gonna win! Ruby can guide me there, you old, dusty crow!"

He had to laugh.

It is amazing how she hasn't bitten her own tongue yet.

AND _they_ do not know _this_ area as much as _he_ does.

"Not under my watch!" yelled Qrow and flicked the reins. "C'mon gal! You can do this!" He encouraged his white steed. He made a sharp turn, into a shortcut to the forest with a single jump to the forest.

Laughter threatened to escape from his throat – but it soon died down when he heard the familiar sound of galloping, that wasn't his own. Now, Qrow turned the tables by using Tara's own tactic, forcing her to change direction or slow down.

It went on for a few minutes until…an order from Tara changed the flow.

"DUCK!"

Tara outwitted him by storming to the lower branched trees as she and Ruby lowered their bodies as close to the horse as possible. Qrow bit his lip. At this rate, the Huntress will fully control the flow.

"By the Remnant, please don't be so rash," he prayed under his breath and went to a common route to their home.

Qrow decided to concede the match and slowed their pace. He would be blind if he did not notice his horse's fatigue. The horse was significantly slower than their first burst of speed, and is stumbling, and gladly changed its gait to a slower one.

"Uncle Qrow?"

Qrow sighed. "We have to lose this match, Yang. It won't do the horse any good if we kept pushing it," Absentmindedly stroke its neck, he continued. "Sometimes, it is better to retreat, or surrender when it comes to it. For now, let's try to get back home before dinner."

He cracked his neck. "What do you think of Tara?"

The blonde placed her face on his back.

"I do think she's pretty cool…" Yang answered, but trailed off. "She won't take _our_ mother's place, won't she?"

Qrow cringed inwardly, knowing Yang's fear. "She's not there as a replacement Yang. It will be temporary, and will take in one of the remaining guest rooms. Do you want to know her properly?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"I'm...just afraid. What is she hiding from us? I mean…I don't want her to harm Rubes…" Yang twisted his shirt. "She looked so afraid…so tired…"

Qrow was tempted to take a swig from his canteen, but he didn't want to drink in front of his nieces. "From what I know, she has worked alone for a year and a half. And her jobs are _very, very_ nasty. It is a second-hand intel, but it should be enough. Just between two of us, Yang Xiao Long," He coughed into his hand.

Yang sat up a little straighter at her full name, understanding it is important.

"No matter what, Yang, be proud of who you are. Never doubt yourself, don't push your family away, or even friends. We will, and always will be there, in your heart, and whenever we can, pull you back up when you fall."

"Like I'm a _toddler?_ " Yang said jokingly.

Qrow let out a husky laugh. "Sometimes we're all babies inside. And most of the time, you are one."

"HEY!"

"Kidding, Firecracker."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I include the uncle/niece relationship. Not sure if the dynamic is just right. I play with Yang's insecurity with the new addition to their house, since Tara is a young female. She is just afraid Tara will replace Summer as their mother (that will not happen).
> 
> Thank you for reading! Read and Review! Do follow/favorite the story to keep track~


	8. Chapter 6.5: No Goodbyes?

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

**Chapter 6.5: No Goodbyes?**

* * *

…

_Quietly in this sunless world, the coyote looked around, turning full 360 degrees, confused, and tail down. Its snout twitched in this stale air, there is nothing to indicate where it was. It howled, hoping to receive a cry in return – but silence was all it received._

_The ground under its paw was soft, vegetation were in small patches in random places. But something about this place made the young coyote uneasy, its fur bristled._

_It easily blend in the darkness, with its raven-colored fur and hints of violet. The pattern on its fur, was one similar to a twisted version of the moon of Remnant, located on its hind legs._

_Its multicolored eyes gleamed brightly in this darkness. And they blinked when it heard its name._

" _Tara, come here."_

_It perked up, ears swiveling. The tail now wagged a little as it distantly recalled the voice. The voice that always gave it warmth and comfort it needs._

_Now acting on its primal instinct, it ran across the land, fast and quiet as its soft padding cushion, or rather mute most of the sounds. Suddenly, the moon appeared in the sky, its luminous light shining on the coyote like a natural spotlight._

_Finally, after what seemed like years, it spotted a small dot in the horizon. Its screaming muscles begged the animal to stop._

_But the coyote won't be stopped. Not when the voice it knew was there, just waiting._

_It ran up the cliff before crossing a bridge, and met a person halfway. It howled happily, and leaped into the woman's arms like a kid. Her hand caressing the soft fur on its form._

**Mom…mom?**

_The curls of the woman's long hair, tickled its ears. For a few minutes, they stayed like that – just feeling warmth from each other. Their eyes were closed – and they didn't see the bridge rotting away, as invisible enemies sawed the hard ropes away._

_Nor did they notice the glowing red eyes of Grimm glaring in the darkness – of the bottomless chasm they stood above._

**Look out! Please, please, the bridge! It's breaking apart! MOM PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME!**

_The human Tara's pleas fell on deaf ears – neither can pass the boundaries set by the laws of nature. The woman, almost similar in appearance with the coyote's human appearance. Except for her clothing – it was more of a regal gown, one fitting of ancient royalties that once walked the Remnant in its past glory._

_The coyote yelped and nuzzled the woman. In a slow motion, countless ropes that supported the swaying bridge – snapped. The woman noticed the sudden shift of footing, became alarmed and clung one of the ropes with one arm. The other with the coyote who became very still as it bare its sharp fangs to the Grimm lurking below._

**Can you hear me?**

_For once, the woman's head turned to the human Tara's direction – who was floating in the air like a phantom. However, the central heterochromia eyes of her mother were glazed._

_The human Tara's heart broke into tiny little pieces again._

_The dream played like a broken tape. In slow motion, the woman threw the small coyote over her head, her semblance, the cloth that wrapped around its form, flickered slightly bluish. And the creator, released her grip and free fall into the chasm with a mutter of blessing to her daughter._

_And the phantom Tara closed her eyes, the shrill screams and cries of pain from both the animal and human pierced the night like symphonies of music of parting._

XXX

The sixteen years old teenager woke up in cold sweat and sat upright immediately. Her head pounded, forcing to bow her head low to ease her pain for a while. She wrapped the blanket around her form, as if it could protect her from the haunting dreams.

"…Shitty." Muttered the teen. "Gods…" Her hands were clenched and the thin blanket was twisted roughly. The cold draft from the cracks of the glass windows were not doing her any favors – and the young orphan stare at the white, enchanting light from the moon, that had gathered in one spot – like it always did.

Something about its light always calms Tara down – and for that, she loved it.

After several minutes in daze, Tara shook off her sleepiness and slipped off the comfy bed which she and her mentor once bought from a garage sale years back. The orphan glared at the cracked mirror when she walked passed – hating everything about herself.

The now exposed neck, reflected the scars that littered across her neck in crisscross – they were nicks and cuts from people who thinks they are part of the higher beings.

Who thinks they can play god.

She scoffed. Whoever they are, they are good as dead – Logan has made sure of it before his passing.

And if there are leftovers – Tara gritted her teeth – revenge will be sweet.

If it weren't for Logan, she wouldn't have known where the scars come from – and probably never will.

Tara walked silently across the creaky floorboards, careful to place her weight with each step properly for stealth. And opened the door and walked out of it, with the intention of climbing to the rooftop, just to stare down at the small village she will leave later, permanently, when the first light comes.

If it was a few hours back, there will be lights in the homes. Now only one house still lit – it was a tavern.

In another four days – Tara smiled wistfully at the cracked Moon – she will be in Haven Academy.

It was weird – on the way she has managed to graduate one day earlier than most of her batch. She only placed her head on her knees, thinking back to the events that led her to her acceptance in Haven Academy.

XXX

The leaves rustled from the breeze, its brown, yellow, orange of fallen leaves crushed from her black boots. A duffel bag, on her back, weighing little with her meager belongings. Around her waist, were her weapons she designed and modified with pride. Carried in one hand, was a small bouquet of flowers. It was a bizarre collection – one the orphan handpicked herself from a flower shop.

White heather, yellow heather, azure hydrangea, orange poppy, and yellow rose – two for each colored flower. The collection did not fit, but the florist who was well versed with flower language, only gave Tara a small smile and nod.

The teen orphan halted once a familiar shape grave met her sight.

"I'm back," called out Tara, her voice hollow.

It felt like it was only yesterday, Logan passed away peacefully in his sleep.

She didn't even have the chance to say goodbye.

A breeze came and went – successfully bringing her back to the present.

' _Welcome back.'_

Tara simply smiled and walked forward, posture straight as her lilac scarf danced freely behind her. It was weird, hearing his voice in his head.

Something that reassured her all these lonely years, that Logan Rose is watching over her.

Tara placed the bouquet on the ground and patted the medium-sized mossy rock with a sense of longing. Then, she sat next to it, and leaned back. "Do you like the bouquet?"

The wind came and picked up speed. And the leaves swirled upwards in a spiral before flying off to their next adventure. One of them, somehow, settled on her outstretched palms.

' _Very thoughtful of you. I appreciate a_ more _variety of flowers.'_

Tara chortled. "Really? But it's the thoughts that counts!"

Save for an occasional chirping, there was silence. Tara crushed the rotten leaf in her hand and opened her hand, scattering it to the wind.

"It's the thoughts that counts…" repeated Tara softly. "Am I doing the right thing?"

The wind slowed a little.

' _About?'_

She bit her bottom lip. "I want _revenge._ I hate myself, people see me as a monster, a garbage. Most Faunus thought I was a wannabe Faunus, and the humans see me as a monster, clad in…" She choked and sniffed, "What's wrong with me? I shouldn't care…I have survived worst."

The wind sighed.

' _Tara, it's easy to get lost in this…revenge. Once you start, it is a never-ending cycle.'_

For a moment, a specter of Logan Rose stood in front of her, his form translucent under the morning light and the corner of his lips, curved upwards. _'You, my dear friend, are someone I am proud of.'_

The orphan reached a hand to the ghost, and met nothing. "Even in afterlife, you still manage to comfort me."

She took a few deep breaths and stood up, brushing the dirt off her scarf and pants. "Thank you."

A weak breeze.

' _No goodbyes?'_

Tara circled the rock with her fingers with a sorrowful expression. "I will be back."

 _I love you._ Tara added in her mind.

She closed her eyes. It was easy to imagine she was only going out of their rundown house – only to run back in and give him a tight hug – and later in the evening, he would search her, and find her either singing or dancing or training in the forest where natural light shone on her light a spotlight – and coaxed her back with a simple promise of cooking an omelette, or they stayed out until twilight for training – exhausted, but smiling all the same.

"…I will bring a better bouquet next time."

The wind laughed in her ears.

' _I will hold it to you.'_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First short story for this RWBY fic. I hope you readers enjoy it.


	9. Something/Some thing (Alt. Spirits of Remembrance)

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing  
Chapter 7: Something/Some thing (Alt. Spirits of Remembrance)**

* * *

…

It was well into the evening when Tara and Ruby arrived to the homely shack. When Tara first saw it, the first thing that came to mind was…sad. Something about the building puts her off, as if it was missing something crucial.

Red and black spots danced in front of her eyes, and she blinked furiously, shaking her head to clear it away. Unless she was imagining things, something white stood out at the corner of her eye. The cape fluttered lightly with phantom breeze, with it, white petals surrounding the house with a soft sigh.

"Rose…" she muttered once she recognized the soft petals that now fluttered her skin.

"Where?"

Ruby's voice made the phantom disappeared, together with the white rose petals – and Tara raised her eyebrows.

_A spirit?_

"Nothing…" The Huntress managed to sound casual in reflex as she looked down at her young charge. A skill she picked up in Sanctum Academy – to shield herself from others.

Sounding disinterested or casual tend to make one avoid Tara, or feel safe with just her voice. The Huntress then looked at the housing that she will live for the next 6 months.

The shack was obviously well-maintained, clear window glasses – showing the different colored drape curtains behind it. Near the front door, a few feet away, was a weapon shelf. Red, grey and yellow colored weapons – they were in compact forms much to Tara's burning curiosity. To its right, was the rental car.

The Huntress helped the little charge down first, and slipped off the horse herself once she deemed Ruby is safe. The black stallion snorted, but followed the light tugging.

"Good horse," Tara patted its neck once more before releasing the reins. "You did well."

Bless the red riding hood, Ruby came to her with a bucket of fresh water for the horse. She raised it up a bit hesitantly to the tired stallion as it approached. The stallion snorted a bit happily before rehydrating itself.

For a while, Tara merely watched the two interact with each other, that was until she heard a soft bark. She shifted her gaze to a ball of fluff, its slobbering saliva all over her right boot, and it even had the nerve to look cheeky. The animal and the Huntress stared at each other, unblinking.

"…Corgi?" asked the Huntress, feeling a little foolish.

The miniature size of its tail wagged rapidly. "Wuff!"

"Yes?"

"Wuff!"

The adorable ball of monochrome color panted more, before tilting its head and then leaned against her left leg for support. Its lush, soft looking fur was begging to be touched. Tara slid a hand down her face – she must resist!

The sound of shoed hooves beating the ground, crushing the dry leaves and cracking branches reached her ears as she tilted her head to the direction. The damn Corgi didn't even budge, but looked up as best as it could with its current position – easily climbing the ratings of cuteness.

And came the puppy eye.

It was that moment Tara knew she _have_ to pat the dog. With a resentful sigh, she bent down and scratched behind its ears. The damn Corgi seemed to laugh at her weak defenses though Tara, herself, knew it was just a trick of her mind.

"I see you met Zwei," snarked a familiar voice. She didn't bother looking up. She had long known he was here the moment the hoof beats came closer – and to a stop. Not only that, the black pants came to the edge of her vision when her contact approached.

Still scratching Zwei's ears, Tara remarked rather sardonically. "It's just a ball of fluff."

A laugh. "Ball of fluff? Kid, the very same _ball of fluff_ is a trained Huntsmen dog."

Tara shrugged nonchalantly. "Must be nice to have company."

"Where's your team?"

A sudden shift of subject made her hand stiffed. Slowly, she stood up and tilted her head upwards to face taller Huntsman. Her tri-color eyes bore into his curious rusted reds.

"No idea." She tried to shove the Huntsman away, but Qrow grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.

_Screw you!_

Tara retaliated with a sweep of his legs.

His reflexes saved him from falling face-first.

Qrow jumped backwards, surprise in his eyes, but they became narrowed just as quickly. He cracked his neck – twice. Tara widened her feet a little, her body slightly tensed – trying to stay ahead of her opponent.

_Crack!_

It was her only warning.

Qrow at first threw punches – right, jab, cross, straight. They were predictable – easily blocked, but still hit hard. Her red palms can attest to his power.

Then, he suddenly dashed forward, half-twisting his body and tried to elbow her. She growled and dropped to one knee, and jabbed his exposed side. His face contorted, but his hands grabbed the offending wrist, and twisted it – restricting her movement.

The Huntress countered by jabbing – but he faced front just in time, for her fingers to hit his damn hard abs.

Intense heat and pain flooded her system – from the fingers.

The Huntsman turned her twisted hand over her – and Tara punched his gut, hard, ignoring the fractured fingers, and somersaulted, striking three kicks – all connected to his body – before her movements became very restricted.

Qrow was forced to release her, for his jaw has been struck. He groaned, and jumped backwards.

They glared at each other for a while – Tara rubbing her released sore wrist, the dull throbbing of her fingers made her blood roar – Qrow, rubbing circles on his jabbed side.

"Good in unarmed combat. How unexpected," The Huntsman remarked. "Your weapons didn't even restrict your movements _that_ much. They do not have compact form."

The rest were in distinct mutters. "…21 inch? 23? Should be around that length…obviously a katana."

Tara looked at him warily, and sent a sliver of Aura to her fractured bones. She experimentally clenched them – no pain, no cramps. It was only right there they noticed they had three audiences – all wide-eyed, and jaw dropped. Right in front of Ruby was a shaking Corgi, Zwei.

Its ears were flatten – and Tara felt guilty, but stood where she was, careful to wear the「blank」mask. The trio's eyes went from Qrow to Tara, and back to Qrow again – Taiyang was one of annoyance – Yang had placed her hands on her hips, tapping the ground with her right foot – while the youngest among them, Ruby Rose, completely enraptured by the fight, silver eyes twinkling brightly.

"OHMYGODTHAT'SSOCOOL!" fangirled Ruby.

Tara cringed at the pitch, and physically shrank under Taiyang's questioning look. "Girls, go inside. We, adults, need to have a _serious_ talk."

"C'mon Rubes," Yang shook the younger girl with a soft, motherly smile – somehow, fitting to the teen's face. "Let the adults do the talking, and we, children, do the playing."

Ruby pouted and kicked a pebble. "But…but…"

Yang sighed. "I will let you modify _Ember Celica_."

"Sold! You would like it!" Ruby beamed at the prospect, and walked beside the taller girl, with a little skip in her steps as they head to the house – Tara filed the information. Ruby obviously took her interest in modifications and weapons designs by…

Qrow – Tara stared at the Huntsman.

Something just doesn't add up.

…

* * *

…

Taiyang looked at Tara Twilight, certainly having second thoughts about having this, _crazy_ Huntress in his humble home. A kettle was set to boil on a stove, all three cups, placed in a safe distance away from the boiling kettle – a portion of strong coffee powder was poured into them. The TV set was off, the kitchen is pristine clean except for some dirty dishes that were hastily cleared away with telltale tomato sauce on them.

By the counter were Qrow and Tara, with a chair apart between them.

For once, Qrow was quiet, drinking the alcohol substance in his canteen, only giving the hooded Huntress an inquiring look when she propped an elbow on the counter, placing her head on it.

The silence was strained – one Taiyang felt it will take a lot more than _sharp_ weapons to cut.

"How old are you?" asked Taiyang carefully – earning a harsh look from Tara, her mouth set into a thin line. She didn't bother to hide her hostility towards the host – for taking her weapons away from her side.

"Twenty-one this year."

Qrow was about to remark about her age, and Taiyang cut him off with a question. "Birthday?"

"Somewhere in Winter."

"Who taught you?"

"Logan."

"Last name?"

Tara sighed unhappily. "Rose. Like the flower."

_Just a coincidence. Summer is the only child._

Taiyang decided to shift the angle of his questions. It was painfully obvious to both of the men – her mentor _is_ a sensitive topic, and none of them wanted to stroke the smoldering embers of her wrath.

They have Yang for that.

"Don't you have parents?"

Silence was his answer.

"Friends?"

Tara cracked her index finger with her thumb. Dimly, Taiyang noticed she is _left-handed_ like Ruby. There was a sense of sorrow on her posture this time, again with _burden_.

"Lost contact." There was an underlying warning in her voice – and Qrow subtly shook his head, and pointed at his side.

"When was the last time you had a chat?"

Tara tapped the counter. "Too long. And I do not know where they are currently. Or even how they're doing…"

There was a pause as Taiyang wracked his brain for more questions. Preferably something mundane.

The kettle whistled.

Taiyang quickly off the stove and lifted the kettle, pouring its hot contents slowly in a small circle onto one of the coffee cups. He heard low mutterings from Qrow and a snort from Tara, before she muttered something back, highly likely a snarky comment.

"I know it is overdue, but," Taiyang placed a coffee cup in front of Tara. "Make yourself home."

Tara didn't touch it, instead stared at the liquid. The blonde then attended the remaining coffee cups with a slight smile. He had caught on to something good.

A small smile – from the normally stoic Tara. A good sign.

"Tai, what would she teach? She can't be my PA, for usual reasons," The still-not-drunk Qrow quoted the last word in the air. "And, the best part? She's too suspicious for anything!"

Taiyang could only give Qrow a hard look as he sat opposite the two. "As long as she's not wearing her hood _all_ day in Signal. And socialize with students and staff, suspicions will be...good as gone."

They glanced at the aforementioned Huntress, and she shook her head adamantly and pulled the hood further down protectively.

"Second Yang or Ruby?" Taiyang asked, with amusement lacing his voice. Qrow raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"Ruby. Definitely Ruby – Tara is like a koala to her hood."

The Huntress ignored their teasing completely by drinking her coffee, and stared at the wonder liquid. "Heaven."

"Heavenly taste indeed." Qrow muttered. "Too bad, no side-jobs for this."

Taiyang ignored the jab. "Are you doing alright?" asked the blonde gently. Tara started laughing. Except the laugh sounded a mixture of sadness and anger – a dangerous combination.

"Alright? _Alright?_ " she hissed the word. "What is the definition of it?"

Neither of the men answer. She had a valid point.

"Let's go with sane – and have a good brain inside your skull," quipped Qrow. "Along with empathy and sympathy," added Qrow as an afterthought.

Tara snorted into her coffee, before draining it completely. It was completely unladylike. Taiyang inwardly sighed.

Will Ruby end up like Tara?

Taiyang had a sneaking suspicion Ruby would be better, but in what way? The blonde mused. And his heart sank at the thought – that one day, they will grow wings and fly on their own.

Saving people, killing Grimms, and find a good man, and settle down.

"Bark!"

Taiyang stared at Zwei, its tongue out as it showed its belly. The blonde smiled and gave the belly a few taps with his exposed foot. He noted Tara had left her seat, and went outside to the cold wind, while sitting on the steps of the porch.

The Huntress stared at the fallen autumn leaves before picking one up and twirled it with her fingers – it made Taiyang wondered if there was anyone to be there for her, to comfort her at every step of the way.

Perhaps the autumn leaves held a precious memory, or a remembrance of someone important in her life. Unexpectedly, she stared at the empty space – seeing something only she could see. The wind blew softly towards her, making her hood billow.

The two men observed her, content with just their cup of coffees in hand, each of them, lost in their own train of thoughts.

"Hey Tai."

"Hm?" grunted the blonde man, his eyes never leaving the Huntress's side.

"…promise me you will protect…the girls whenever possible."

Taiyang smirked at his old friend and shook his head once.

Some things just never change.

Unknown to them, the spirit of Summer Rose stood in front of Tara Twilight, and the two women, courtesy each other – the former with a simple bow, and the latter with an arm crossed over her stomach, and head low.

The white petals circled the house – and one of them brushed Tara's cloak before swirling up to the sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do read Chapter 6.5 to know more about Tara's life before Haven's Academy. There's a reason why Tara is able to see them, especially when they choose to show themselves. It will be explained in future chapters.
> 
> P.S Looking for a Beta Reader! PM me.


	10. Chapter 8: Little Habits

**The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing  
Chapter 8: Little Habits**

* * *

…

Tara was woken up by something heavy on her chest, and for one reason or another, her face felt really sticky. The dull throbbing of her head didn't make it any better.

For a wild moment, she thought _her_ past caught up to her, but…

Her skin felt warmth instead of the usual cold when out in the field, a cool material kissed most of her skin – pyjamas.

Odd, Tara Twilight has thrown them all a year ago – since it was impractical to change into nightwear when in the middle of the night, she might have to move fast. And her waists were free of burdens of cloths...

Another impractical thing if she was ambushed by Grimm.

In the haze of figuring out, the Huntress noted whatever she was sleeping on was comfy.

A clear sign she was not in a tavern – nor a motel room.

Tara opened her eyes, sleep still clouding her heather colored eyes. Flecks of electric blue irises scattered across her eyes – like stars in the night sky. Currently, they were the brightest thing in the whole room.

The same slittery thingy is going up and down her face – Tara grabbed the furry head, squeezed it with her palms – her half-awake mind had pieced the simple jigsaw puzzle together.

"How the fuck did you get in here?" asked Tara, half-grunting. She was confident she had locked the door of her room the night before she went to bed.

It wasn't a habit she will break – especially safety.

Zwei merely squirmed in her palms. "Arf! Arf!"

The young woman only sighed and patted its head. "Now get off my chest."

"Arf," it replied in a lower voice. It jumped off and landed on the wooden floor without a single sound – which Tara was grateful for. She shifted her position, and with a roll, became a cocooned caterpillar.

Her lilac scarf tangled around her neck, its ends were partially scorched with bullet marks, and every one of them spoke of her great valor and tiring events of Tara Twilight.

And those dreams plagued Tara Twilight in her sleep – their silent figures, were both assuring and not assuring. Like black and white, they mixed together in her dream, to form a mutual balance between the two.

The white to remember her mistakes.

The black to remember the lives she has taken – willingly or unwillingly.

…

* * *

…

Meanwhile, in a place away from Patch, inside a storehouse, was a lone masked Huntsman. He wore his combat attire – a white vest over his plain stormy grey T-shirt, and a long fitting pants that showed off his toned muscles. Around his waist was a green sash, exposing his symbol – a wolf chasing after a shining orb.

His mask – was detachable – and shaped like a butterfly's wing. The edge was tinted with silver, and its base color was almost white as snow. It was a delicate crafted mask, from his own hands a year ago.

He brushed the mask with his fingers forlornly.

To think this _item_ is his only link to _her_ whereabouts.

He ignored the heavy weight of his heart, the invisible shackles on it – which once a long time ago – he would gladly remove it if he had the chance.

The feeling kept him alive, as a reminder his experience with his team at Haven Academy is real.

Not an illusion – not a memory as fleeting as a butterfly.

One of his pocket vibrate – and the Huntsman spared it a glance before taking the object out – a Scroll in its compact form until he pulled it, allowing the screen to expand.

The blue light reached his stormy eyes, its pupil became slightly smaller.

A notification – noted the Huntsman with a tired grin – from a friend.

But, the grin was wiped off the moment a silhouette entered his peripherals. The masked Huntsman's lips curled downwards and gave his recently arrived colleague a 'you-are-late' look.

His temporary partner merely smiled and courtesy with her pink umbrella – which the masked Huntsman has no doubt there is a sword hidden in it. She was petite, and her Neapolitan ice-cream colored hair swayed as she walked towards him. Her tri-colored ice-cream eyes narrowed at his opened Scroll – its blue light illuminated part of his face, as if he was a Grim Reaper, except the Grim Reaper does not wear a butterfly-theme mask.

She signed, smirking. " _A little late for backing out now, isn't it?_ "

The Huntsman bit his tongue from retorting, though he was trembling with rage.

Something about this deceiving petite girl reeks of evil. Pure evil.

Satisfied with his reaction, Neopolitan raised a gloved hand – as if it would appease him. " _You know,_ " she began as she paced around him in a circle, her stylish boots _possibly_ clacking the cement with every step.

" _I always wonder why, you choose to dirty your hands – when,_ " she gestured exaggeratedly to a dusty window – the Moon of Remnant shining the dancing dust in the air. " _you could be a hero in light."_

He eyed on her evenly. " _So could you, Neopolitan. Why choose to hide in the shadows?_ "

Her face darkened. " _My father. Raised me – even if we are not the same flesh and blood._ "

The masked Huntsman smiled as his thoughts went to a certain orange-head thief. " _He is a good father. But you and I know we're not here for a chat. Our next target?_ "

Neopolitan smiled and sat on one of barrel drums. The Huntsman pocketed his Scroll before he crossed his arms and leaned against one of the boxed crates. Whatever it was inside, he knew it was nothing worth knowing.

Torchwick may be a thief, but he's one of the best, with a wide network of information and control over his turf. Roughly 65% of Vale is under his control despite the active police bodies and constant patrols.

Selling humans, Faunus, and eliminating his rivals… Even selling drugs, drugs deemed illegal under the eyes of law. His moral sense is questionable.

The Huntsman's lips curled. _At least he doesn't dabble with human experiments._

He stared at the ice-cream theme girl. Maybe because Neopolitan was a survivor of those inhuman experiments.

" _Father wants to eliminate_ Coyote _. Whoever that person is, he or she has damaged our…_ " She paused, her eyes suddenly narrowed. She looked absolutely livid at this person. " _The point is._ Coyote _has been going around eliminating our regular customers. Mistral… Vacuo… Even on our home ground,_ Coyote _fucking eliminated them and avoid detection. All records, our databases connected to the CCTV. There are no_ survivors _. Our hired henchmen were only just a ground of meat when we found them. Along with researchers. We could try DNA test – if we know all of their DNAs in their first place to find_ Coyote's _._ "

" _No survivors? Ruthless. You two will get along fine,_ " he added the last bit, with a slight tilt of his head.

Neopolitan was not amused. " _We don't do human experiments, but, our customers do it. Obviously, we loaned some of our men to them – just to avoid…_ " She suddenly looked distant. " _Father does try to liberate them…but…the best he could do is just give them a proper burial. And we need money to survive in this world of so-called_ justice _._ " Her hand slowed a little at the word, as if hesitant to use it.

" _Where are we transferred?_ "

" _Nowhere… for the time being._ "

The masked Huntsman raised a brow – which she could not see.

It was strange. Perhaps Roman Torchwick is being cautious. After all, it is rare for a single person, to eliminate 3-digit customers in a span of a year and more without having a single profile about Coyote. No gender, fighting style – no intel at all.

" _Wait,_ " He signed as a thought came to his mind – a burning question. " _Why do you call him or her_ Coyote?"

She shrugged, and the masked Huntsman resisted to sigh. He has been sighing a lot lately. He has no idea a coyote's habits, but he knew it was related to the coined nickname.

In a blink of an eye, Neopolitan had walked off, with the masked Huntsman trailing behind the younger woman, still lost in his thoughts.

…

* * *

…

"Still awake, Tai?" Qrow's voice drawled out sleepily as he leaned against the doorway, finding Taiyang signing papers, with a stack of files on his left. It was close to 3 A.M. The latter didn't seem to hear the former as the papers were scratched upon furiously one after another.

Qrow became concerned at once. " _Tai_." He called out a little louder, and this time Taiyang could not ignore as he placed his pen down and glared at him.

Taiyang looked horrible. The dark circles that Qrow was sure it wasn't there earlier in the afternoon, were obvious. His normally tame hair was mopy, as if he had come out of bed – which Qrow suspected Taiyang had done.

"Tai, bed," Qrow pointed to the stairs leading to the second floor. " _Now._ "

By the gods of Remnant, Qrow swore he sounded like a mother for a moment.

Taiyang sagged his shoulders. "I can't sleep." He returned to his paperwork soon after that. Immediately, the scythe master stormed towards his friend and slammed the table with his hands.

"You need _rest_."

The aforementioned man stared blankly at Qrow before he snapped, "I can handle myself!"

Qrow went silent and slightly disappointed. Skeptical, he asked, "Really? How long has it been since you last rest? Like really rest?" he added the last bit softly.

"Years ago." Taiyang answered, before looking at his unarmed hands – calloused from many years of training. He clenched them and shook his head. "It's hard to sleep when the other side of the bed is…" He started choking. "Cold. I missed her. I missed them _both_."

Rivulets of tears spoke of his loneliness and sadness he kept near his heart, streaked down his face. Taiyang wiped them away, still hitching and crying softly as he mourned for his lost loves.

Qrow wasn't sure how to comfort him. He had watched Tai broke down years ago, and although he is recovering, there are always two voids in his heart, that even his daughters could not fill in.

A yawn caught Qrow's ears and he quickly turned to the door, spotting a certain red-cape niece in her plain pyjamas. He smiled at the sight, but quickly the smile dissipated as he remembered a broken man in the room with him.

"Hey Rubes," Qrow managed to sound lively and he crouched to Ruby's level, effectively blocking her from witnessing her father's misery. "What do you need?"

Thankfully, Ruby is too sleepy to notice her father's soft crying.

Ruby let out another yawn and smacked her lips together. "Water."

Qrow forced himself to grin. "I will fetch plain water for you, go back to your room, little Rubes."

Too tired to argue, the little girl nod, eyes still closed as she dragged her feet across the smooth wooden planks, and climbed the stairs. Qrow watched until he heard the familiar sounds of clicks that echoed in the silent house – and went to the kitchen.

Before he left Tai alone, Qrow looked at the crying man with a sad smile. "Take your time, take your time. I will try my best to back you up."

On his way to Ruby's room, he hoped Taiyang knew he wasn't alone. He can always count on any of them…right?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm just testing the waters with the characters in this fic. It's the first time I attempt these characters especially Tara and Taiyang. Scratch that, they all lost somebody important to them, and find it hard to move on.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Read and Review! Do follow/favorite the story to keep track~


End file.
